


Not According to Plan

by Reinamy



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blind Date, Drama, Holy Wordiness Batman, Language, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Minor Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein, Minor Mikasa Ackerman/Armin Arlert, Polyamory, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 23:50:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5646265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reinamy/pseuds/Reinamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Eren Jaeger goes on a blind date and nothing goes according to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not According to Plan

**Author's Note:**

> Major thanks goes to [bondageluvr](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bondageluvr/works)/ [haganenoheichou](haganenoheichou.tumblr.com) for beta'ing this fic! All remaining mistakes are my own.

 

"Are you serious?" Eren demanded, pushing himself upright to get a better look at his friend. "This is a joke, right?"

"Of course not. Why would I joke about something like this?" Armin asked as he plopped onto the edge of the mattress. The bedsprings creaked under him, a consequence of having supported one too many sleepovers in its lifetime and reminding Eren that he really needed to invest in a new bed.

"Because you have a shitty sense of humor," Eren said, "enough to think that I would actually consent to going on a…on a…" He couldn't even say it.

"A blind date," Armin supplied.

"Argh!" Eren made a wild gesture. "Do you know who goes on blind dates, Armin? _Losers_ do. Losers who are so pathetic that even their friends feel the need to intervene in their love lives!"

"Or more specifically, the lack thereof."

"You're not helping! Ugh, it doesn't matter. My answer is still _no._ "

"Eren," Armin sighed, as if _he_ was being the unreasonable one, "it's really not as terrible as you're making it seem. It's not like we're asking you to make a lifelong commitment. We just want you to—"

Eren raised a hand. "Wait—we? Who's _we_? Don't tell me Mikasa is in on this, too!"

"—meet the guy," Armin continued without missing a beat, "have dinner with him, see if you hit it off. If you do, great! If not, then it's only a few hours wasted. Just _try_ , Eren."

"I'm not interested, Armin," Eren insisted, trying not to be moved by his best friend's earnestness.

"And that's the problem," a new voice cut in, startling Eren. His eyes snapped to the open doorway where Mikasa now stood, arms crossed, her gaze an odd combination of disapproving and worried. "Ever since Bertholdt dumped you—"

"Wow, thanks for that."

"Tact, Mikasa! _Tact_!"

"—you've completely shut yourself in," Mikasa continued, undeterred. She shrugged off her bag and dropped it to the floor, then hoisted herself onto the bed. It gave another warning creak, which they all ignored, and released a series of groans as she crawled towards Armin and kissed him chastely then scooted to the head of the bed to settle in beside her brother. "Not to mention everyone else _out._ It's been seven months, Eren. It's time you put it behind you and moved on."

"That's easy for you to say," he grunted in response, trying, and failing, to secure his pillow from being captured by his sister. "You found your other half without trial _or_ error. You don't know what it's like."

"Maybe not," Mikasa agreed as she shoved Eren to the edge of the mattress to make room for Armin on her other side. "But even I know that what you're doing isn't healthy. You can't just… close yourself off because of a failed relationship. You need to keep trying until you get it right."

"You need to get out there again," Armin summarized, leaning forward so he could see Eren properly, "and since you're not willing to, we decided it's up to us to ensure that you do."

"Please," Mikasa said just as Eren opened his mouth to argue. "For us, if not for yourself. Armin and I are worried about you, Eren. We just want you to be…"

"…Like yourself," Armin finished for her. "Because you haven't been. Not since Bertholdt. So just…indulge us, please. Even if nothing comes of it, all we want is for you to try. That's all."

Eren looked between his sister and his best friend. In their eyes was nothing he hadn't seen before and everything he'd been determinedly ignoring, fearing that if he acknowledged it—their worry for him, their concerns—he'd also be forced to acknowledge their desire to help him. Like now.

Eren closed his eyes against their wordless appeal and slumped into the headboard, feeling as if the conversation had slowly been sucking the life from him and the physical effects were only just making themselves known.

"Alright," he muttered wearily. He didn't want to—could think of few things he wanted _less_ —but Eren had never been good at saying no to Mikasa and Armin when they were trying to do something for his benefit. The consequence of growing up without a mother and with an absentee father, he supposed. "Just…just this once. But if the date is shitty, that's it. No more setting up dates, no more interventions, and no more interfering. Got it?"

"Only if you promise that you'll make a genuine effort tonight," Mikasa argued.

"I said I would—wait, what? Tonight? You mean the date's _tonight_?"

"Didn't I tell you?" Armin spoke up, innocently. "I made you a reservation at _Historia's_ for 7 o'clock."

He paused, then added, "I hope you did laundry this week."

Eren blinked confusedly at his friend, hearing his words but not really associating any meaning with them. It clicked, after a moment, and with a growl he lunged across Mikasa to throttle the little shit.

Mikasa only leaned out of the way and watched them tussle with a smirk.

 

* * *

  

Eren arrived at _Historia's_ at a quarter to seven wearing a pair of Armin's slacks, tight-fitting and tucked into his boots to hide how short they were on him, and one of Mikasa's button-downs which, though he didn't like to admit it, fit him perfectly. He kept the two topmost buttons undone because he _hated_ the feeling of his neck being constrained, and with his hair styled as usual—a.k.a, not at all—he felt like he was dressed more suitably for a club than a four-star restaurant one had to make reservations to get into.

It wasn't _too_ bad, Eren admitted, as the hostess verified his reservation and led him to his table, a two-seater tucked into a corner of the vast, dimly-lit room. The table's rounded top, scattered with doilies and covered with a crisp white sheet, held a candle-lantern at the center. Beside it, a rose too tall for its crystal vase glowed a dark pink. He slid into his seat (wincing a little because _damn,_ his pants were tight), accepted the ornate menu with genuine thanks, and watched the hostess walk away, easily weaving through the generous space between tables.

To his relief, the restaurant wasn't nearly as posh as some of the places he worked as a waiter during his first two years of college. Everyone else seemed to be dressed semi-casually, for one thing, and for another, the menu actually listed prices, even if said prices made him cringe and thank his lucky stars that Armin was footing the bill. The items that were listed were things he could actually recognize ( _and_ pronounce), which had been his primary worry.

After a few minutes of browsing the menu, Eren reached for his phone to check the time. He frowned when his hand met only rough denim, and checked the opposite pocket. That, too, was empty. The first stirrings of panic made themselves known in his chest but Eren forced them down, determined to stay calm. He twisted in his chair and swept his gaze across the floor, hoping to spot his phone, and took a deep, steadying breath when he didn't.

 _Stupid Armin and his stupid pants with its stupid tiny pockets,_ he thought as he rose to his feet and tucked the chair under the table. Trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, he started retracing his steps, eyes fastened to the wine-colored carpet in hopes of spotting the small silver device that held within it Eren's _whole_ _life_.

His stomach was somewhere around his feet by the time he reached the boundary of the seating area and he still couldn't find it. He doubled back, because what else could he do but search again? He was no more successful the second time, however, and it was with a renewed sense of panic that he returned to his table.

 _Shit,_ he cursed, gripping the back of his seat so tightly his knuckles turned white. _Where the hell could it be?_ He tried to remember when he'd last used it, and then blanched because it had been in the taxi. What if he'd left it there? Or worse, he'd dropped it when he had been climbing out? He was on the verge of honest-to-god hyperventilating when a voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Armin whispered, _Calm down, Eren_. Eren closed his eyes, exhaled deeply, and tried to do just that.

 _Okay,_ he thought, detaching his hands from the chair and taking a step back. _I need to calm down and think._ He closed his eyes. _My first priority should be making sure the phone's not in the restaurant. I can worry about the alternatives_ after _I've ruled that out._

Forcing himself to relax—to think through the haze of panic clouding his mind—he swept his gaze around him. He needed to call his phone. There was always the possibility that he wouldn't be able to hear it over the cacophony of the restaurant, but he had to try.

Luckily the two tables closest to him were occupied. Eren dismissed the first after barely sparing the man and woman there a glance; they were clearly arguing and Eren wasn't about to interrupt, especially since the woman was gripping her butter knife a little _too_ tightly. The second table was more promising; it was occupied by two older men who were talking amiably, even if the shorter of the two looked rather grumpy. Eren noted that both men were _very_ attractive, then shook his head because _priorities, Eren._ He had more important things to do than ogle strangers.

Taking a breath, Eren stepped away from his table and towards theirs. He halted when he was a few feet away and floundered a bit, unwilling to interrupt but not wanting to stand there like a creeper, either. To his relief they eventually noticed him, the blond one pausing mid-word and turning to look at him, and his companion following suit an instant later.

"Uh, hi," Eren said, nervously rubbing the nape of his neck as he suddenly found himself pinned down by twin stares. "Sorry to interrupt, but I...well, I think I dropped my phone somewhere around here and was wondering if I might be able to, um, use one of yours to call it...to see if I can hear it. The ringtone, I mean, if you're okay with that…"

As the men continued to stare at him, Eren wondered if he would've been better off asking the arguing couple at the other table after all. He was getting ready to apologize and back off—seriously though, he would have appreciated a single _yes_ or _no_ —when the blond finally spoke up.

"Oh. Yes, of course. Hold on one moment, let me just…"

Eren had a moment to feel relieved before surprise slunk in to take its place. Instead of grabbing his own phone, the blond reached into the other man's pocket—giving Eren the impression that they were either really close friends or _really close friends—_ and pulled one out. The dark-haired man leveled an assessing look at his companion and then rolled his eyes, but didn't protest. He seemed more interested in staring holes into the side of Eren's face, which Eren pretended not to notice.

After swiping the screen and entering the passcode, the blond offered Eren the phone with a smile that the younger man unconsciously returned. He thanked him and took it, only to pause when his eyes landed on the background image. If Eren hadn't been sure they were a couple before, he certainly was now. He felt a blush rise to his cheeks as he gawked at the picture of the two men sharing a kiss that was, while chaste, decidedly not _tame_. There was way too much grasping involved for that, not to mention the look in their eyes—

Realizing that he was just standing there and _staring_ , Eren gave an awkward cough and quickly typed in his phone number. His bangs fell over his eyes as he lowered his head to look at the screen, unable to meet either man's gaze. He hoped they couldn't see how furiously he was blushing. As he tapped the green call button he mentally reprimanded himself for staring like that. He couldn't imagine what the two were thinking. Maybe they thought he was a pervert, or worse, a homophobe, and—

The sudden blaring of a familiar ringtone jolted him from his thoughts, and Eren lifted his head and tried to follow it. It sounded close. _Really_ close.

"It's… somewhere here, I think," the blond mused aloud, peering around him. "Should I—?"

"No, no, don't move, I think I see it…" He trailed off as he reached the dark-haired man's chair and lowered himself to his knees, phone still raised to his ear. He used his free hand to crawl forward until he was partially under the table and reached out, breaking out into a triumphant grin when his hand closed over familiar plastic. Eren brought the phone to his lips and kissed it, paying little heed to dust or dirt, then ended the call and crawled back out.

"Got it!" He exclaimed as the tablecloth slid over his head. "Man, for a moment there I thought I was in serious trouble." Eren carefully set the phone that wasn't his on the table and pushed himself to his feet. It was only when he looked away from what was probably his most valuable possession that he realized he was being watched, and faltered.

It wasn't the first time he'd found himself on the receiving end of their stares, but there was something…different about it now. Something that made heat coil in his lower belly and his heartbeat quicken and his knees turns to mush. He felt that damned blush return, rising from his neck to the tips of his ears, and he swallowed the sudden swell of nerves in his throat and willed himself to calm down.

"You don't even realize, do you?" The dark-haired man said, piercing Eren with a heated look, eyes black where the glow of the synthetic candle didn't reach them. "How you look. Crawling out from under the table with that satisfied grin. Clothes all disheveled," those eyes dropped to his shirt, "hair a mess," then rose, "face flushed pink. And the way you're looking at us now, like you've been caught doing something you shouldn't. Makes one th—,"

"That's enough, Levi," his partner interjected, the smoothness of his voice contradicting the sharpness of his gaze. "Here's not the place to say such things. Besides," the corners of his lips quirked up a notch, "you're going to frighten him."

 _Levi_ scoffed, but subsided. The blond, too, tempered his gaze the smallest amount, enough so that Eren no longer felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. He took a moment to regain his bearings then inched back.

"T-thanks for letting me use your phone," Eren forced out, then promptly fled.

He'd barely taken five steps when Levi called out, "His name is Erwin, by the way. And now you don't have to resort to using shitty epithets when you think about us. You're welcome, brat."

"Levi _, honestly_ —," the man who was apparently named _Erwin_ started to say, but the rest went unheard as Eren hightailed it back to the relative safety of his table. If he concentrated he could probably still make out the gist of their conversation, but Eren truly did not want to know. He untucked his chair, sank into it, and covered his face with his hands, needing to just… hide for a little while. Give his brain time to process what just happened.

Five minutes later and he was no closer to wrapping his brain around it than he'd been before.

He was, however, utterly mortified that he'd crawled under a stranger's table without stopping to consider what that would look like. And he'd _definitely_ looked to be doing _something_ given the way said strangers had eyed him afterwards, never mind what the dark-haired one had said…

Eren's face burned against his palms and he groaned. He tried to steer his thoughts in a safer direction, but they would not be derailed. He couldn't get the man's ( _Levi's_ , his mind traitorously whispered) words out of his head. It didn't make sense. Wasn't he with Erwin? The picture on his phone was a pretty big indicator that he was. Yet he hadn't hesitated to hit on Eren even though his partner had been a mere arm's length away. A partner who hadn't put a stop to it like anyone sane would have. And maybe he had hit his head when he'd fallen off his bed earlier a bit harder than he'd thought, but Eren didn't get the impression Erwin had objected in any way. Maybe even the opposite.

Eren groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face. _They were probably just messing with me,_ he told himself. _But why should I care?_ _It's got nothing to do with me either way._ Resisting the urge to peek at the sources of his current turmoil, he lowered his hands and swiped his phone on. 7:07 PM the screen read. His date was late. Ten minutes ago Eren wouldn't have cared, would have even prayed he never showed up, but now…

Well, unwanted or not, at least the guy—his name was _Jean_ , and that was the only bit of info Armin and Mikasa had been willing to divulge—would provide a decent distraction.

Two visits from the waiter, one glass of water, eight games of _Temple Run 2_ , and six near-incidents of succumbing to temptation later, a shadow fell over Eren's table, startling him enough that he missed a turn and Scartlett Fox ran right off the edge of a cliff.

"Only 486,723?" A voice said from behind him, and Eren turned to get a good look at the person who'd spoken. "I hope you're a better date than you are a player."

"Fuck off," Eren instinctively shot back, just as the guy— _Jean,_ he presumed—thanked the hostess who'd guided him and slid into the opposite seat.

Before Jean could fire off a retort, the hostess said, "Your waiter will be here in a moment, sirs."

"Thank you," they said in unison.

The woman offered them a polite smile, then strode off.

They looked at each other.

"I'm Jean," the guy spoke first. "Jean Kirstein."

"And I'm Eren," Eren said, and then, because one did not hang out with Armin without becoming a bit of a little shit themselves, "Eren Jaegar."

Jean narrowed his hazel eyes at him, one hand coming down to drum on the table. The rapid _thunk-thunk-thunk_ of his fingers grated on Eren's ears. "Well, this is certainly going to be fun," he said sarcastically. "You're already proving yourself to be a _delight._ "

Eren forced himself to smile. "Thanks. I only wish I could say the same about you."

 _This,_ Eren thought as Jean's lips tightened, _is going to be a long fucking night._

 

* * *

 

Twenty minutes later, Eren realized he couldn't have been more right.

Jean, with his two-toned undercut and douchey tweed jacket, was an _asshole._ That wasn't a deal breaker in and of itself—Eren got along with plenty of other assholes; even included himself amongst them every once in a while. But Jean was the type of asshole that Eren _hated—_ arrogant, with notions of self-importance and a certain fondness for hearing himself talk.

But even that could be tolerated, with enough wine in him. What Eren absolutely could not deal with was the fact that Jean was also a _snob,_ something that was quick to make itself known once Eren revealed he was an art major. The instant the asshole quirked his brow and smirked, remaining pointedly silent as if by doing so he was doing Eren a _favor,_ Eren very nearly lunged across the table and punched him. Only the thought of what Mikasa and Armin would do if they had to bail him out of jail for assaulting the guy they'd set him up with kept him in check, if only just.

Eren couldn't remember the last time the limits of his restraint were so forcefully tested. A limit that he very nearly reached when their waiter arrived—a tall, dark-haired guy around their age who had more freckles than Eren had ever seen on a single person and an air of kindness about him that couldn't be feigned. His introduced himself as Marco, smiled with his eyes, and blushed worse than Eren did when he was flustered.

Which he tended to be, _a lot_ , because Jean had a habit of staring at him like he wanted to swallow him whole, clothes and all. Never mind that Eren, _his date,_ was literally right there, watching him drool over another guy.

Had Eren been younger, he probably would have blamed himself for the outcome of the date. He would have considered Jean's interest in the waiter a personal slight against him, an indicator that he'd once more fallen short in someone's eyes. But Eren had come a long way from being the thin-skinned, insecure kid he used to be. He'd matured enough to understand that Jean and him simply rubbed each other the wrong way, even if he wasn't mature enough to stop making the friction burn worse.

 _At least I can blame the outcome on him,_ he mused, ignoring Jean's shitty attempts at flirting and Marco's equally shitty attempts at not flirting back. As if him refilling Jean's glass four times in the past fifteen minutes wasn't a huge indicator that he wanted to bone Eren's date. _Armin and Mikasa will feel terrible that they set me up with someone who spent the whole date flirting with someone else. I can milk this for months, if I'm careful enough._

Of course, that was entirely dependent on Jean not realizing that he wasn't the only one looking where he oughtn't to. In his defense, it had been an accident. Mostly. The point was, he hadn't meant to glimpse their way, not really, but there were only so many places to look when your date was seducing with your waiter and you weren't interested in viewing the show.

Eren glanced sideways without meaning to in the exact moment Erwin _also_ glanced sideways, and, well, it was really hard to look away when those eyes were fixed on him, okay? Eren didn't think he'd ever seen anyone with eyes that exact shade of blue, like peering at a clear, summer sky through a crystal. And when he _smiled,_ just the smallest arch of his lips, and the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled in obvious amusement…

Needless to say, Eren wouldn't have been able to look away if Erwin hadn't looked away first. And Eren, enthralled as he was, unconsciously followed his gaze—

—straight to Levi, who was staring at him, too, with those penetrating eyes of his. Eyes that, for all they were singular in shade and not particularly interesting, entranced Eren just as much as Erwin's did. There was something about them, something _in_ them, that made him feel like his skin was made of glass. Levi's eyes were like _lasers,_ and when they raked over him, Eren _prayed_ that the man didn't actually have x-ray vision so he wouldn't see the way Eren's toes curled in his boots.

Levi and Erwin were mesmerizing, a study of contrasts that shouldn't have complimented each other so well yet somehow, inconceivably, did. And seated together, their contours highlighted by the lantern glow between them, their differences that much more pronounced… Eren didn't known what he'd wanted more in that moment—to have on him the tools he needed to render their visages with paint, or to slide in between them and see whether he would clash or blend in.

It was the second thought that startled him enough to jerk his gaze away. Wasn't it bad enough that he was attracted to two much older men who were already in an established relationship? And now he wanted to…what? Add himself to their equation? Just the thought made his stomach churn with an frustrating mishmash of embarrassment, shame, and _want._ Eren was no stranger to threesome fantasies, but never before had they involved people who were neither faceless nor untouchable. And the men he was now desperately trying not to fantasize about were definitely none of those things.

The arrival of the waiter was a bit of a mixed blessing, and by the time he left, several minutes after their meals were distributed and their glasses refilled, Eren wasn't sure if the distraction was worth having to listen to him and Jean flirt. He very nearly threw up his steak when the waiter _finally_ pulled himself away and the two shared a forlorn look as though Marco was going off to war and not, y'know, just to the kitchens.

After a few moments of silence, Eren decided to attempt another conversation.

"Wow, this streak is delicious, isn't it?" he said, because food was always a good conversation starter and as a bonus, they'd both ordered the same thing.

"Yeah," was Jean's distracted reply. He'd barely touched his meal, so focused on staring in the direction Marco had gone. "He really is."

Eren stared at him. Wordlessly, he went back to eating, making a mental note to not bother with initiating conversation again.

Armin and Mikasa were going to owe him _big time_ for this.

Some minutes later Jean excused himself to the restroom. Eren barely glanced up from his game of Sudoku to nod his acknowledgment. He watched disinterestedly as Jean rose from his seat in a jerky motion and strode away, and then returned to his game.

A row of numbers lit up as he successfully calculated—alright, alright, _guessed—_ the correct sequence of digits to input. But before he could even think to congratulate himself on his minor success, the sound of a wood scraping carpet drew his attention. He looked up in confusion because Jean couldn't have been gone longer than two minutes (which definitely wasn't enough time to make out with the waiter in a bathroom stall, as Eren suspected he was doing), only to freeze when he realized the person sitting in the chair _definitely_ wasn't Jean.

"L-Levi!" Eren squawked with a spasm that had his chin jerking out from his palm and his elbow nearly colliding with his half-empty glass.

"You remembered," the man said, sounding so pleased it bordered on condescension. The "Good boy," he tacked on certainly wasn't helping matters, and Eren scowled despite the blinking question marks in his head.

"Behave, Levi," Erwin said, coming to stand beside the other man's chair. He sounded as if he wasn't sure whether to be exasperated or amused.

Levi only grinned in response, dark eyes never leaving Eren's.

"What are you two doing here?" Eren asked in a harsh whisper. He wasn't sure why he was whispering to begin with, only that it felt appropriate. Perhaps it was because he felt, on a subconscious level, that he was talking to people he shouldn't be?

Yeah, that sounded about right.

"You looked bored with your friend gone, and we thought you might enjoy some company in his absence," Erwin said sensibly, as if there was anything sensible in what he was saying. Eren hoped his expression was saying _at least_ that much.

"Erwin, while your propensity for understatement is as delightful as ever," Levi interjected, "I think the brat would be better off if we cut the bullshit and got to the point."

"Hey, okay, first of all, I am _not_ a brat!"

"If you think that's wise," Erwin said to Levi, and then, turning to Eren, "I'm afraid he'll keep calling you that until he learns your name."

Eren grit his teeth. "It's Eren. Now would you mind telling me what the two of you _want_?"

"Eren," Levi repeated, drawing his name out in a way that made the one to whom it belonged fight back a shiver. "It suits you."

"Thanks," Eren said sarcastically, "your endorsement means so much to me."

Levi, rather than get annoyed, actually seemed intrigued by the show of cheek. His smirk took on a sharper edge, his eyes fluttered half-mast, and he settled more comfortably in his seat as if he'd finally received some cue to do so. Eren barely had time to gulp down the nerves that materialized in his throat when Erwin interfered. The blond lowered his head until it was level with his partner's, draped his arms loosely around his shoulders, and said simply, "Levi."

Eren watched as the shorter of the two blinked, as if coming out of a trance, and smiled wryly. "Captivating, for a brat."

"And doesn't even know it."

Eren was done _._ He opened his mouth to once more demand that they either tell him what they wanted or _get the fuck lost_ , when Levi splayed both hands on the table, leaned forward, and said, "Listen up, brat. We're here to rescue you."

"Rescue me," Eren repeated.

Levi crossed his arms, then his legs, and leaned further against the back of the chair and into the circle of Erwin's arms. The way they were looking at him was disconcerting; it made his heart quicken and his stomach clench. He gripped his phone, just to have something solid to hold onto, and tried not to fidget under their intense stares.

"Oh, please. Don't sound so unconvinced. You're on what's probably the worst date of your life. You've been ready to end it for ages, but your date keeps prolonging it to have more time with the waiter. Whom, by the way, he's probably fucking in a bathroom stall or somewhere equally disgusting. You need rescuing. We're magnanimous enough to help you. Now let's go."

Erwin retracted one arm and used his free hand to rub his temples.

"You can't be serious," Eren spluttered, nearly knocking over his glass as he flailed. He managed to steady it before the water spilled, but it was a near thing. "First of all, it's creepy as fuck that you guys have been watching me enough to know all that—"

Levi scoffed. "As if you weren't watching us just as much, brat."

"—and secondly," he continued, pointedly ignoring the truth in those words, "you can't actually expect me to just get up and leave with you! I don't even _know_ you!"

"That's the point." Levi sighed as if Eren was being particularly thick, which made his temper rise another notch. Gorgeous or not, the guy was an _asshole._ "You'll _get_ to know us."

"And why the hell would I want to do that?" he demanded.

"Because you want to bang us, _obviously_."

Eren tried to come up with something to say to that, but found his mind had gone blank. He made a wordless sound, not unlike that of a dying animal, and snapped his gaping mouth shut.

Erwin chose that moment to intervene, either because he'd finally taken pity on Eren or he realized none of them would be getting anywhere with Levi holding the reins of the conversation.

"What Levi is trying to say," the blond cut in as he straightened and placed his palms on Levi's shoulders; Eren couldn't tell if it was meant to restrain him or support him, "is that the two of us are attracted to you. And if we haven't misread the situation, you're attracted to us, as well."

He paused, as if waiting for Eren to say something, but seemed to realize the younger man was currently incapable of it. His next words were spoken with more gentleness. "Our intentions towards you aren't…dangerous, if that's what you're thinking. We simply wish to invite you on a date."

Eventually, Eren's mouth was able to work in tandem with his brain to produce words.

"A date."

"Yes."

"But I'm already on a date."

"Yes, and we've already established that it's been a shit one— _ow, Erwin!"_ Levi hissed, wincing.

 _Definitely restrain_ , Eren decided, eyeing Erwin's hands.

"We're aware. And despite Levi's frankness," Erwin said with a pointed look at his partner, "I don't think he's wrong. I may be overstepping my bounds by saying this, but you don't look like you're enjoying yourself. And Levi and I would like to remedy that, if you'd allow us."

 _I think I fell asleep at some point,_ Eren thought as he stared between the two, _because this definitely can't be happening._ He pinched himself just to be sure and yeah, okay, he was definitely awake. _Ouch._

The action provoked a snort from Levi and an amused smile from Erwin, which the man quickly tried, and failed, to hide.

Eren worried his bottom lip as he tried to think of how to respond, and felt his face grow hot when both men's gazes dropped to the lower half of his face.

They weren't kidding, he realized, his grip on his phone tightening. He forced himself to let it go a moment later, not wanting to damage it, and instead focused on smoothing out the creases on the tablecloth as his brain worked to wrap itself around the current situation.

"Okay, so let me get this straight. You—the _both_ of you—are attracted to...me?" His voice rose a bit on the last word and he cringed at how _insecure_ he probably just sounded.

"Yes, that's right," Erwin affirmed, his gaze unwavering.

"And you want to go on a date. With me."

"As we've said," Levi intoned, and for all that he sounded bored, his eyes, too, did not stray from Eren.

"But… aren't you two, y'know, _together_?" Eren asked, stressing the last word. Because that was the part he really didn't get. If they were involved, what need did they have for him? Were they swingers or something?

At his question, Levi titled his head up. Erwin met the other man's gaze, and despite their silence, Eren understood that a conversation he wasn't privy to was taking place. A sensation that felt suspiciously like jealously made itself known inside his chest, but Eren forced it down with a hard swallow and then just as forcefully steered his thoughts in another direction when they appeared hell-bent on analyzing that reaction.

Ignorance was bliss, and all that.

"We are." Levi was the first to speak. He lowered his head. "And we're exclusive, for the most part. But every so often we come across someone we find… _interesting._ "

"And you're _very_ interesting," Erwin continued, for the first time sounding something other than calm. The way his voice went low and gravelly sent sparks of electricity zigzagging down Eren's spine, and he shivered, something he knew both men noticed given the darkening of their eyes. "Not to mention devastatingly gorgeous."

Coming from a man who looked like a statue of Adonis turned flesh and whose lover had the type of face one normally didn't see outside of fashion magazines, that sort of praise was flattering as hell...

"So?" Levi pressed, leaning forward. He licked his lips, and Eren's eyes tracked the movement before he could stop them. He watched as those sinful lips curved in a grin, before forcing his gaze upwards. "Are you going to let us rescue you or not?"

 _Not,_ Eren should have said. He didn't know them. They were both much older than him. They were lovers. He'd never been involved in a threesome before. Mikasa would murder him if she ever found out. Armin would cast him looks that'd make him want to murder _himself._ So many good reasons, all of them clamoring for attention in the back of his head, but Eren could barely hear them over his thudding heartbeat and the rapid push and pull of his breath.

"Is this just for…tonight?" He found it within in himself to ask, then held his breath as he waited for one of them to answer.

Erwin did. "It could be, if that's all you want. And if it's not… well, that's what the date is for. We'll figure out the rest as we go."

There were so many questions Eren wanted to ask, such as _why me_ and _how many others have you done this with?_ And perhaps most damning of all: _how do I not mess this up?_

But Eren clamped his mouth shut, swallowing the questions down.

 _Later_ , he promised himself. Aloud he said, "Then we should probably get going before my date comes back."

A beat, and then both men lost their serious expressions and grinned. Levi rose swiftly from his stolen chair and closed the distance between them, then held out his hand. Eren hesitated only a moment before accepting the proffered appendage and letting himself be pulled to his feet.

It was as if, with his acquiescence, whatever barrier Levi and Erwin had placed between them had fallen away, along with their self-restraint. Before Eren could blink both men were on him, Levi at his side, his warm hand in Eren's as he tugged him forward, and Erwin behind him, one hand pressed gently against his lower back.

Eren would never admit it to anyone, but he was secretly glad for their guidance. His legs felt like jelly. He kept his gaze forward as he was led out of the restaurant, certain that everyone could see the red stains on his cheeks and the trembling of his limbs and the way his throat kept contracting.

For all that he agreed to go with them, Eren felt completely out of his depth. It wasn't the first time he'd hooked up with strangers, but it _was_ the first time said strangers affected him in ways that extended past his belt. The slamming of his heart against his ribcage, the burn of a blush that wouldn't fade, the frantic fluttering of winged insects in his gut…those things weren't meant for this type of situation.

Eren wasn't stupid. He knew exactly where their date was going to lead. And he was fine with that. _More_ _than_ fine with that. He couldn't remember the last time he'd looked forward to something this much.

It was what followed that Eren was trying not to dwell over. He didn't know these men save for what impressions they'd given him in the sum of their interactions throughout the evening, which hadn't been much at all. And maybe that was the problem. Eren _wanted_ to know more than whichever parts of themselves they'd chosen to share. Wanted to strip them layer by layer until he got to the very core of them, and then dismantle _that._ Wanted to paint them in a million different ways, all in different angles and under different lighting, until every inch of them, every slope and plane and shadow, was known to him. They were beautiful, and fascinating, and his for at least tonight…but Eren was beginning to suspect that wouldn't be nearly long enough to get what he wanted from them. He'd be lucky to have a rough sketch when the night was over, never mind anything else.

 _We'll figure it out as we go,_ Erwin had said, and Eren clung to those words, let them reassure him as they were meant to. He was starting to get ahead of himself—a character flaw he'd never outgrown and was, according to his ex, the main reason they'd broken up—and he really needed to stop. So he focused on his breathing as he was led out of the restaurant and onto a busy street, the sky overheard considerably darker than he'd last seen it, scattered with faint stars and a large, silver disc of a moon that was so bright it shone through the clouds.

It was there that Eren realized he forgot to pay for his portion of the meal. He briefly considered going back and settling it before changing his mind. The very least Jean could do was pay for his share, considering what he'd subjected Eren to.

He wasn't given long to fantasize about the kind of expression Jean would make when he realized Eren had bailed as he was soon distracted by the feeling of arms encircling his waist and the press of a body flush against his back.

"What's got you looking so vindictive, hm?" Erwin murmured in his ear, breath warm where it caressed the skin of his neck.

Eren shivered instinctively, going rigid before practically melting in the man's arms.

"Look how responsive he is," Levi purred, stepping forward until he and Eren were standing but scant inches apart. In the dark, Levi's grey eyes were almost black, as if they were leeching the color from the night itself. His hands, pale and slender, flattened against Eren's stomach, then rose, travelling over Erwin's forearms and upper still, until they were pressed against Eren's chest. "I can actually feel his heart pounding away."

"S-shut up," Eren snapped, more breathily than intended.

Impossibly, Levi's eyes darkened further. "Oh," he breathed, tipping forward until their lips were a mere hair's width apart and Eren could smell the wine on his breath and something else, something bittersweet, "I'm hoping to have a lot of fun with this mouth of yours tonight."

Eren's breath stuttered and he braced himself for a kiss that never came. A coil of disappointment unfurled inside him as Levi pulled back—taking his heat and electricity with him—and walked away, tossing a casual, "I'll get the car. Don't start the fun without me," over his shoulder.

Eren watched Levi disappear around the corner with dazed eyes. He shook his head, then twisted himself so that he was looking up at Erwin—who was, even from that terrible angle, unfairly attractive—and groused, "Your partner's an _ass._ "

A startled expression crossed the man's face before it gave way to unveiled delight. He released a loud bark of laughter that drew stares from the whole street and made Eren wish he had a canvas and paint, or hell, even loose-leaf and a freakin' crayon, anything to get onto paper what he'd just seen.

"He is," Erwin said easily with a grin that Eren found himself mirroring, "but it's part of his charm."

Eren grudgingly agreed. Whereas Jean had just _begged_ to be punched with every word he spewed, Eren found himself wanting to kiss Levi silent whenever he opened his mouth and said something particularly asshole-ish. Which was often. He saw a lot of kissing in their immediate future. He must have made a sound, or moved a certain way, or something, because his ears were met with amused chuckling as if Erwin knew exactly what shape his thoughts were taking. He felt himself flush.

"You're too cute," Erwin said, the cross of his arms lifting from Eren's waist to the center of his chest. "I can't wait to see what sounds you make when Levi and I take you apart." He smiled against Eren's neck. "Yes, like that one."

"…you're kind of an ass, too," Eren grumbled, earning another bark of laughter that he could _feel_ against his back.

Erwin started to say something, but his words were drowned out by the jarring screech of tires against cement followed by a loud, ear-splitting _honk._ Eren zeroed in on the source of the noise and found Levi peering out at them from the window of a sleek, black car. He looked impatient, which he emphasized by honking the car horn again.

"Come on," Erwin sighed, pulling his arms away, to Eren's regret. "He'll keep doing that if we don't hurry up."

"Ass," Eren reiterated.

"The biggest," Erwin agreed, before curling his hand around Eren's and tugging him forward.

Eren ducked his head to hide his smile.

"So, Eren," Levi prompted when Eren was properly seated in the back, Erwin a comforting warmth at his side. The leather of the seat, or perhaps his pants, squeaked as he adjusted himself. "Where are we taking you?"

"Dunno. Surprise me," Eren said, since they were doing a pretty good job of it already.

Their eyes met through the rearview mirror.

"Good answer," Levi said, then pulled the car out from where it had been temporarily parked and backed onto the main street.

"You're fidgeting," Erwin said suddenly, placing a hand over his knee. Eren, unaware he'd been bouncing it, forced his leg to go still. "Nervous?"

He was, but mostly…

"Excited," Eren corrected, feeling the ring of truth in his words as he spoke them. Because despite everything—the nerves, the uncertainty, the questions, the hundreds of ways everything could go wrong—Eren was beyond excited to see how the night would fan out.

"Good." There was a smile in Erwin's voice. "We are, too."

Instinctively, Eren looked up and caught Levi's dark, lidded gaze through the mirror. His eyes seemed to echo what Erwin had just said, and Eren couldn't have stopped the smile that broke out across his face even if he'd wanted to.

He slipped his hand under Erwin's and settled more comfortably in the seat.

They had a long night ahead of them.

He couldn't wait.

 

* * *

 

The sound of a phone buzzing is what woke Eren up. He knew it was his by the distinctive pattern of vibrations, unbearably loud against the nightstand. He considered ignoring it, then reconsidered because he wasn't sure how late it was—though by the grey light spilling through the part in the curtains it must've been close to dawn—and last night he'd been too…preoccupied to let Mikasa and Armin know he'd be out for the night. The thought of either of them worrying about him was enough to chase the sleep from his eyes. Stifling a yawn, he carefully eased out from under the arm draped across his chest (Erwin's) and extracted a hand (Levi's) from his hip, then leaned over Erwin to grasp his phone, the rumpled blanket falling to his waist as his torso twisted.

It took a few tries, but he eventually managed to get a good grip on the phone. Unfortunately, he'd thrown Levi's leg off him in the process, causing the man to grunt in annoyance. Eren froze, counted to ten, and when Levi made no further signs of stirring, slowly eased himself down.

The glare of the screen in the dark of the room was blinding, and he hastily lowered the brightness as far as it would go. Even that much irritated his eyes. He noted the time—5:47 AM—then typed in the passcode and opened his message folder, focusing on the newest ones.

 

 **Armin, AKA Little Shit [2:22 AM]:** _Since you aren't answering your phone I'm guessing you're having a good time ;)_

 **Armin, AKA Little Shit [2:23 AM]:** _Aren't you happy we made you go after all?_

 

Eren could practically feel the smugness wafting from the message and rolled his eyes, his lips tugging up into a grin.

 

 **Eren Jaegar [5:49 AM]:** _oh u have no idea_

 **Eren Jaegar [5:50 AM]:** _it hurts me to admit but i actually owe u one_

 

"Ugh," Levi suddenly groaned, voice shattering the silence of the room, and Eren's fingers froze over the keypad. "Quit texting and get back to sleep, shitty brat. That fucking clacking is _loud_."

"Sorry," Eren said in a hush. He turned to look at the man on his opposite side, and sighed with relief when Erwin still appeared to be dead to the world, his soft snores his only sign of life.

Somehow, it didn't surprise him at all that Levi was the lighter sleeper.

Eren remained motionless as Levi shifted to get comfortable, listening to the sound of the mattress creaking, the blankets rustling, and eventually, the man's breath evening out. He waited a bit longer, just to be sure, and then quickly returned to his messages.

Unsurprisingly, Armin had gotten back to him. His best friend always kept the weirdest hours.

 

 **Armin, AKA Little Shit [5:54 AM]:** _Haha. I'll hold you to that!_

 **Armin, AKA Little Shit [5:55 AM]:** _Where are you anyway?_

 

As quietly as possible, Eren typed his reply.

 

 **Eren Jaegar [5:58 AM]:** _sorry gtg. texting is bothering them. going back to sleep now. night!_

 

It wasn't until his phone started vibrating like crazy that he realized his mistake.

 

 **Armin, AKA Little Shit [5:59 AM]:** _THEM?_

 **Armin, AKA Little Shit [5:59 AM]:** _Eren, what do you mean by THEM?_

 **Armin, AKA Little Shit [6:00 AM]:** _Eren???_

 

"Whoops," Eren muttered as he set his phone to silent mode and snapped it shut. With careful movements he returned the device to the nightstand, making sure not to jostle the bed too much, and carefully laid himself down. The instant he was settled in, Levi's arm snaked out and curled around his stomach and he nestled his face in the juncture of Eren's neck.

The man wasn't even awake. Eren found it equal parts amusing and endearing that the prickliest of the couple happened to be the clingiest, as well, tactile when both asleep and awake. He was reminded that Erwin wasn't any better when a heavy leg tangled with his own and the man burrowed more firmly into Eren's side, seeking warmth.

Eren grinned into the darkness. He could _definitely_ get used to this.

As he snuggled further into the arms holding him, eyes falling shut as his drowsiness returned, Eren promised himself to call Armin and Mikasa and explain things as soon as he could. But first—sleep. Erwin, Levi, and him had plans to go out for breakfast in the morning, and if he wanted to squeeze morning sex into their itinerary, he was going to need his rest.

With the rhythmic sound of his lovers' even breathing in his ears, Eren drifted off to sleep.

 

**_The End_ **

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading my first snk fic! ♥


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